


Waking Up in the Past

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Series: Abandoned Concepts [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 09:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17322593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: Vader dies. Anakin, knowing things, appears circa the year Obi-Wan is taken as a padawan





	Waking Up in the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, we play with concepts that don't get a full fic treatment. This is one such, rather incomplete, but offering it up for any who might be amused by it.

Anakin had just seen his son's face with his own two eyes, tasted his son's tears... and then he was staring at a Jedi master he didn't know with hair like a brother's… and he could see in color, could smell and feel and… he was whole, much as he had been that last day as a Jedi.

His state of disbelieving wonder was giving the Jedi pause, to the point that the man (he might be round, but he was very fit and spry) knelt down in front of the stranger, waiting with palms on knees, patiently. He felt no threat, not yet, only ... change. Change could be good or bad, in how it was handled. Patience served him well now.

It took a while before Anakin was convinced that he wasn't in some bizarre death-dream, that he really was in the non-mutilated body he'd lost a lifetime (his son's lifetime, Padme's daughter's lifetime) ago, that he had lungs that worked and a heart that wasn't fighting him, and that for the first time in a quarter of a century his head was clear of the fog of drugs and the Dark Side's poison song... and he focused on the stranger then, puzzled.

"...I don't know you," he said -- and the sound of his own voice was another shock that nearly set him out of his head.

"That makes us even. I don't know you either." The Jedi smiled at him though, and it was a kind look. Only something in the eyes indicated that the man was weighing this all... but it was merely consideration, not cruelty. "I am Master Micah Giiett, currently very curious why the Force brought me here, in this rarely used passage, to you, a complete stranger who resonates with more Force than I am accustomed to seeing in one place."

'Rarely used passage'?

Anakin threw his attention out, searching through the Force -- and Light Side minds touched him everywhere, old and young and --

The Temple. They were in the Temple?

This still felt real, and he thought he remembered that name from a lightsaber near Master Qui-Gon's in the hall of the fallen, and -- a thought struck him.

He reached down and down and _down_ , suddenly, down all the way to --

"It's... still drowsing..." he said to himself, almost inaudible, and shocked, as the Sith altar hummed malicious quiescence.

"I guess the Force isn't done with me," he said, focusing on the other man again, "and things start now. Will you come with me, Master?"

"I suppose I must, for the Force has brought me to you. May I have the honor of a name, sir?" Micah asked, even as he picked himself up to his feet. 

This was unusual and new, so ... of course it was something Micah would enjoy exploring.

"Oh, right. Sorry, Master. I'm Anakin Skywalker." So strange, not to have the entire damned galaxy know his face. Or mask. He shoved that thought away, a little violently.

Anakin pushed to his own feet -- which was a little more complicated than he'd expected, as living tissue responded not at all like mechanical, even when the mechanical were wired to his nerves -- and tried to remember the layout of the Temple now, Before.

Might as well start in the central spire lift and find the route from there, he decided, getting the hang of his body again.

"Anakin Skywalker. A pleasure, so far, for you have brought a mystery." Micah touched the Force, hearing a quiet level of trust, and chose to just walk with the man for now. "Where are we off to, if I may ask?"

Anakin half-smiled, looking over at this man with hair so, _so_ like a brother's, and oh, remembering now what had been done to them **burned** , and said, "Deep underneath of the Temple sublevels. And to prove that I'm not insane, or lying. Possibly not in that order.

"This isn't going to be fun for either of us, I have to admit." 

"Well, the things worth doing for the good of all are rarely easy. So let's see what this journey shows us about both of us, shall we?" He did not, as yet, betray this young man's confidence by alerting another Jedi. Plo was not in temple, but Saesee was; it would be easy enough to call later, should it be needed.

"...you're not kidding about _that_ , Master," Anakin agreed, and kept making his way to the lift. It was strange to feel everything, to be able to easily turn his head, to have his shoulders respond easily. So strange, and it felt so good, and...

They reached the lift, and Anakin set it for the lowest of the sublevels and leaned against the wall, feeling the drop as they sank down.

"Down. An interesting destination unless you are a young person looking to find privacy from others," Micah commented. He had been observing; he could not help but observe. His nature and his training coincided on that.

This man walked like one who had recovered from grievous harm. One who was not accustomed to being well. That was unusual enough; the man looked to be in perfect health but for the way he moved. 

Anakin chuckled again, low, soft noise -- one that would have been subvocal, this time yesterday for him. He remembered a few times of running down into the sublevels to avoid everyone else. "Yeah... you're not wrong, Master. Though if more of you had spent time down here, maybe it wouldn't have gotten so out of hand..."

"I would ask what 'it' is but I gather I am to experience it for myself with you without much in the way of warning," Micah surmised. "So that I can have full impact and awareness, without bias. A wise thing, with you a stranger to me, and me to you."

Anakin turned enough to smile at him, though he knew it had a little bit of a dark edge to it. " _Elek_ ," he agreed, finding the Mando'a coming back to him so easily, as though his life as Vader wasn't entirely there anymore, and he really was still truly Anakin Skywalker, Jedi General of the Clone Wars.

Micah flicked through the languages at his command... simple affirmative, vaguely ... ahh! "Mando'a. Not a common language among Jedi, not even the Altisians. Certainly not at the Green Temple. Corellians and Mandalorians, get along? Hardly! They're too busy both trying to attain something!" Micah did smile broadly at that generalization. 

"Fair assessment," Anakin agreed, shaking his head at the thought of those two groups working together. "Not that the Mando'ade don't have _reasons_ to avoid the Temples, or anything...."

Micah sighed deeply. "Every attempt to either avoid one another or actively mend the breach leads to greater trouble, true. 

"They are intriguing people. I wish I had been granted time to study their culture more closely before I was pushed into responsibility."

The lift stopped and the outer seal creaked angrily as it slowly slid halfway open... and only a quarter of the ancient lighting fixtures flickered slowly to life. Anakin snorted softly and glanced at the door, forcing it the rest of the way open with a minor effort of will and stepped through.

"They're good people, mostly. The _Resol'nare_ is a good set of principles."

"If you are not leading me to Certain Doom, young friend," Micah said in a jovial tone, "you should tell me more."

Micah then looked around at where they were; this was a lower level than he and Plo would abscond to as padawans exploring life together. The lights were in disuse, as was the corridor... but his eyes spied the signs of small tracks; the rats of the Coruscant had even come here.

"Seems I should speak to Master Tyvokka about yearly maintenance."

"That might be wise," Anakin agreed, "not that anyone should really be down here. As to Certain Doom... I really hope not. I think I'll be all right, this time."

He could feel the altar's malevolent presence clearly now, but only, he thought, because he knew it was there. "Huh. Rats. Well, that may be annoying."

He headed for the corridor he wanted, stopped down the wall a ways, and yanked at a section of the wall with the Force, pulling it down to expose the ancient hewn-rock stair.

"OOH, a true mystery!" Micah said, with all the joy of a youngling at holiday. "What more will you share with me, Skywalker?" He noted the dark and pulled his smaller lightsaber up, turning it on and holding it high for light.

Squeaks greeted them, and a smell of old dust.

He sounded so cheerful about a mystery, Anakin thought, startled and smiling at it. "A mystery's one way to put it," he agreed, and was glad of the lightsaber gleam. His was... well. He wouldn't want it anyway. And the other had fallen into Bespin.

~Go away,~ he projected at the rats, lacing the thought with a threat. He didn't remember rats... but he hadn't been here for almost a year after his Fall. They would all have been long gone, by then.

The threat worked, or they recognized a Master of Darkness... even if he was not that man any longer.

The yellow of the shoto blade gave ample light to descend, and things were fine until they came to the first of the crumbled barriers. Micah looked at the exposed mix of materials, and handed the shoto to Anakin, so he could bring his off-hand up, letting the robe fall back to show a gauntlet there. He touched it to the wall, with a small scrape that made it spark, then hummed.

"Who builds with cortosis...." he mused before taking his other lightsaber out. "Hold onto that one, since you seem unarmed, and I will have my other in case of trouble."

"Thank you," he said, soft and honestly grateful. and he stretched his will out to rearrange the fallen cortosis, turning it into much neater piles, and then opened up the crumbled hole enough for easy passage. "And to answer you, 'Those who have no other way to encase something', Master."

"Terrifying, that last," Micah said honestly. "There's a planet's ransom of wealth embedded in that wall." He shook his head. "I was only ever allowed to keep this because of the dangerous tasks I took, and Master Tyvokka insisting we not give offense to those who gifted me with it. Saved my life a few time... and caused more than one young Knight to lose a spar for forgetting it."

Anakin nodded -- he'd recognized the sound/sight of cortosis on cortosis, though he was shocked at it. That made sense, though. "The only way around the Order's rules, yeah," he agreed with the comment, "and... I _bet_ it did.

"That's the first of three," he said, "and each is a full cube -- more or less. On we go."

"You only make me more curious with each revelation, Skywalker. I do hope you intend to continue intriguing me for some time," Micah told him as they moved on. Now, however, Micah could feel the weight of the Dark lurking ahead, and he had to center himself in the faith and bond of his clan, from the adults to the small child he was preparing so diligently as his next padawan. Even Feemor, the slightly awkward tie, was part of the diagram of Force connections he wove around himself as a shield against the Dark.

Anakin turned sideways, blinking once at this man that had been dead for so long, and wondered what things would have been like if he had lived. "I... hope so too. You feel it now, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," Micah said more seriously. "Master Tyvokka is going to be.... well, I wish my friend were here to do the briefing, because sometimes I am a coward where that Wookiee is concerned," he said, with a bit of a smile lighting his eyes. "Let us see what we may, so I may tell my fellow Council members the threat we face in our own basement."

Anakin nodded and went on, finding his way down the second stair and inwards to the second wall, where he had to break less of the ore, but move far more of it, getting them a path through.

The Dark Side sang to him, sang all of its song of power, but he knew where that road took him. Pain, and more pain, and the loss of everything and everyone he loved. There was no safety in the Dark's offered power, no love, nothing that made life worth living, and Luke's tears for him were all the shield he needed against it, now.

"Wait, my friend, just a moment," Micah said as they passed the second barrier. His shield was holding, but... ~Guard my mind, Plo; I will explain later~

The demand, when such distance separated them, was quickly met with compliance, as the Kel Dor wrapped around and shielded his partner with more disciplines than Micah had mastered.

"Now we may go on," Micah said, secure in his trust of his clan and the protection of his mate.

That feeling, Anakin _did_ know, and he said mildly, "Hello, Master Plo," though he doubted he would actually be heard. It didn't feel like that kind of a link.

"Oh well, I guess I should not be surprised you know our wandering Kel Dor," Micah said with amusement. "He has better mental discipline for this, and is kind enough to assist. Even if he is tracking down a Trandoshan that nearly murdered a young Senatorial aide recently."

"Oh?" Anakin asked, curious, and headed down again. The third barrier was as badly degraded as the second, and he pulled and moved the ore easily enough, despite the fact that with every bit the opening widened, the song/presence of the awakening altar increased.

"The political machinations demanded that a Jedi investigate. So, Master Plo is being kind enough to find evidence enough to make it a matter for the Judiciary... or, to be perfectly honest, even if he is a Consular, to just solve it completely to keep his Master's people happy."

They moved further in and then Micah just stopped as the song beat on him with unyielding hatred and anger. The altar could not sway him from who and what he was, so it needed to destroy him instead.

"This, shall not, be!" Micah hissed once he had pushed through the temporary paralysis, every muscle corded with the effort of defiance, to move forward, and see his enemy.

"Kriff," Anakin said, worried and sucking a breath, "it's awake! Master, are you -- can you hold on?"

"Yes, Skywalker. I have faced evil, and know its place in the galaxy," Micah said as he studied the thing. "But this, this is too much of it in one place, I tell you now."

Anakin nodded, breathing a little easier -- he'd seen this thing drive Jedi mad and warp them into Inquisitors with not that much help -- and he glared at the altar in the dim light. "More than five thousand years of it, Master. This was built at the end of the Hundred-Year Darkness, and part of it is a block of core magma from Korriban. Or Moraband, to give it its other name."

Micah shuddered. "Removing it... would be quite difficult. But... the cortosis shields... meant to keep it in check, yes? And evidently capable at that, as this place is unknown to me. Meaning it has long been forgotten by the Order.

"If we restore the shields, and place duracrete to enforce it, do you think it will be contained enough, or should we find some better way?"

Anakin glared at the shrine, taking a breath as he considered. "I'd like nothing better than to figure out how to drop the thing into the local sun, but you're right. They meant it to poison the nexus here and _not_ be easily removed. Duracreting the cortosis in might help," he agreed -- and then he felt _something_ coming, fast and angry. "Master, trouble!"

"Do you need the longer blade, or can you manage?" Micah asked, igniting his lightsaber and moving to be more back to back with the young man, completely trusting in his intent to help, not harm.

"I'll manage fine," Anakin answered, the shoto-length yellow blade reminding him of his padawan -- another reason to fight off the Dark, to hold himself in the Light that had saved him for a purpose here. His beloved padawan, lost to him for all time, deserved better.

For a brief moment, there was something like a lightness in his mind, an impression that she had heard him, impossibly, and was laughing in private awareness of his situation.

The threat, then, was upon them, as a wall of rats, eerily moving as one, came to attack them for Micah defying the Dark and Anakin denying the altar.

Anakin braced himself and turned the Force into a shield, stopping the rats the way he held off the elements, readying to kill the hissing tainted creatures if he had to. He couldn't make them go again, he realized after a moment of reaching -- they/it knew now that he did not serve the altar, and it/they were enraged at that. "...I think," he said, holding off the bodies, and wishing he had eyes in the back of his head as more split around the ones he held, "that we're going to need help getting out of here again."

"We possibly should have arranged such matters before angering them, yes?" Micah suggested. However he reached for Saesee's mind, and the bond to his own Master since she was in the Temple, and relayed the need for assistance and where they were.

"Let's start moving out with the Force to push them back while our rescuers organize and come," he added, once he had Saesee convinced to act, not debate, and had felt the scolding from his master for not thinking ahead.

"Just the Force proving I don't know everything," Anakin said with a snort, "since I've never seen these things! This thing. Hivemind rats, _ugh!__ But yeah, let's!"

"My master will bring reinforcements quickly, and Master Tiin will be right behind her." Micah concentrated on projecting the Force around them, and forward, eager to escape, and not sanguine about it.

"Master Tiin?" Anakin asked, nearly losing control of the couple hundred rats he was using as a shield at the memory of the Master pilot's body on the Chancellor's carpet struck him. "Right. Good, that's... good."

Getting out of this chamber and into the corridor wasn't fun, as it meant pushing _through_ the horde, but... it wasn't impossible, either, and then there was a wall at one side of them, at least.

"As he is currently the strongest telepath in residence, I thought it best to appeal to him," Micah said, even as he could almost taste a sense of grief there.

"Definitely," Anakin agreed, before using his borrowed 'saber to deal with a number of rats climbing the wall along his side. "Force, I _hate_ killing things that aren't even good to eat..."

"No creature was meant to live its life enthralled by the Force, light or dark," Micah told him gently. "These poor creatures died when the Force subsumed what they were meant to be."

"Yeah," Anakin agreed, hissing a low, deep sigh, "but it..."

He'd spent...way too much time slaughtering things, and these little Dark-claimed creatures were just doing what they had to, not even what they wanted.

"Your compassion speaks strongly for you." Micah was doing his best to not kill, but his lightsaber moved with blurring precision from time to time to spare them an attack.

"Compassion, or exhaustion?" Anakin muttered to himself in Mando'a, but said in Basic, "Thank you, Master," as he held his portion of the shield and guarded their flank, hoping that their help hurried.

The pair had made it nearly to the second shield when the first of the reinforcements arrived. A Falleen woman was escorting a Noorian one, as well as a Gand and ... that was Master Ti, but wearing clothing far more like his padawan, Anakin realized!

"Ahh, thank you all for coming, but I do hope Saesee rounds up a few more," Micah quipped as they took in the wall of rats. 

"For once, Micah, I agree with you," the Noorian said.

"Once? My dear Tahl, you wound me," he said playfully, as the quartet helped push the wall of rats back a little further. 

Anakin laughed at the byplay, almost despite himself, and was grateful for all the help -- even though he couldn't help glancing at Master Ti now and then, because she looked so **different** out of the robes and in clothes more like Ahsoka's!

He thought he'd seen the Falleen woman once or twice, and maybe the Gand, but they all looked much alike, even to someone used to looking for differences in _vod'e_ , and... the Noorian was a stranger to him. Except. He knew that name. 'Tahl', Knight Eerin's master. She was -- really tall, easily his own height, and he wasn't used to that in most near-human women. Another Master that had died long, long before he came to the Temple, alive.

"If you two are quite finished being younglings," the Falleen said with mock-disapproval, "we need to keep falling back. They are not responding to my pheromones at all."

"You sound grumpy about that, Master," Micah teased. "But I am all for retreating."

"That may be a first," the Gand said. "I will be certain to tell my master."

"Do and I'll tell the cooks you're not allowed to have that pastry you like so much, Jaunre!" Micah threatened.

The teasing, light byplays of the various people interacting were... reinforcing the ability to push the rats back? Too much Light networking between those five people, and letting them lean into each other.

Anakin let the play buoy him up -- startled as he was at finding it among Jedi not named Kit Fisto or, despite his dislike of the man, Quinlan Vos -- and leaned into the Light of it gladly, as they kept working their way _away_ from the swarming mass of the rats, and up past the first cortosis barrier.

By that point, Saesee and a handful of others had met them, and now Micah halted their progress.

"This is where it gets tricky, my friends. There are three barriers that need sealed... and this is the last. Which means finding some way to defeat the rats, and go back in to seal the other two."

"Their mind is resisting my effort to pull them apart from their collective hatred," Saesee admitted.

"Would maintenance have enough sedative gas to toss down in there, Masters?" Anakin asked, looking at the Iktotchi Master with an ache deep in his chest. Master Tiin had been good to him, if sad, and often taken him out in ships just to fly. Seeing him alive -- if quite a bit younger -- was... it was good, he decided, firmly. "I mean, it would need to be a lethal concentration, since there's no saving them... they've spent too much time in the Dark nexus, but."

"I will reach out to them and the healers, young one," Saesee said, having accepted his presence solely for Micah's approval of Anakin. "The rest of you need to take turns holding this portal shut to them, while we prepare that necessity."

"Agreed," Micah said, as the other Council member present, and the rest of them shifted to provide that support, even as Ti looked vaguely uneasy to be across a kinetic barrier from a lifeform twisted out of balance with the galaxy.

Anakin put his will to that, to making sure that none of the rats escaped the opening he'd created, and then he felt a skittering of them above their heads. Above their heads, and outside the ore, that -- what -- "Kriffing **hells** , Masters, I think some're in the original air vents that served the shrine, must have chewed them open the way they did the doors..."

"Kark it all but that's not going to be on the maintenance maps," Micah swore, moving away from the opening to be able to use his communicator. It still gave him static, and he looked at Saesee. "Tell ... Trayre? Yes, Trayre to shut off all ventilation shafts, seal them, and fall back on the secondary air pumps for the Temple."

Saesee nodded, relaying that message to the head of Temple maintenance. 

"Secondary air pumps will still have the air stale and hard to breathe within the day," Tahl said. "Should we have the younglings and elders moved into the towers for the moment?"

"Yes," Areen said. "Go up away from the communication interference, Tahl, and contact Master Sinube with that plan."

The Jedi got to work then, and Anakin could relax some, knowing this would be cut off as a resource for Sidious.

* * *

MISSING SCENE

* * *

"That went smoothly. But then, Master Tyvokka is a doer."

"It did," Anakin agreed, "and... I noticed that. I think I like him. A lot. I'm really sorry I never got to meet him, before."

Micah nodded. "Too much to hope that he would survive forever, I suppose," he mused. "He's elder than my Master, though younger than Rancicis. I don't ask ages beyond that, though I could probably find out.

"And have my Master promptly find a horrible mission for me," he said, grinning at the last. "For Falleen are ageless."

Anakin laughed at that, "Falleen, or women in general?"

Micah laughed. "I know some women who will tell their age. But not many."

"Really not many," Anakin agreed, shaking his head slightly. Then he realized that Padme was only a toddler, somewhere on Naboo, and bewilderment struck him for a long moment.

Micah glanced over at him. "What is it, Anakin?" he asked quietly.

"Just realized that the woman I fell in love with, the mother of my children... is about three, somewhere on Naboo. She was always... older, elegant, polished, almost perfect... and she's.. a toddler. Just like my Master is just an Initiate, and all of his friends are, too," Anakin answered, refusing to hide the truths of his life -- that didn't include his half a century a mind-warped tool of the Dark Side -- any more.

Micah gave a sympathetic sound. "That would be very disconcerting, I think," he said, trying to imagine it for himself... and his mind shied from it swiftly. Plo had been part of him for literally the near-entirety of his life, and that they had bonded in their hearts too.... he could not imagine a life without that.

"I suppose you can see it as an opportunity to protect for the younger you."

Anakin blinked for a moment, surprised at the sympathy and lack of censure, and then he smiled, corner of his mouth quirking up. "Yeah... I guess so. _Force_ , what the _haran_ am I supposed to do about _me_?"

Micah reached and put one hand behind his shoulder as they walked toward Micah's office. "We get you a data pad. You make a timeline of how things went **when** they went in your history.

"Then you prioritize investigation versus interference in same. And I am certain one of those, at least, will be your own life."

"...that's the thing," Anakin replied, "I want to **so** badly, but if I do, if I get Mom and I _out_ of there... the repercussions might be," he had to pause to look for the right word, "catastrophic, for an entire world. Or maybe not, because maybe we'll have changed so much in eleven years that it won't matter at all if I go hang out in Gardulla's palace on Tatooine in five years and get them then."

Micah nodded. "Hence the need to make that list. Seeing it in hard form lets you build a diagram of 'if this, then that' so when you push a pebble, it only directs the avalanche onto what you wish to destroy."

"I like your metaphors," Anakin said, grinning at him in cheerfully amused pleasure as he nodded.

Micah played the words over again, then considered whether to speak... and decided yes. "If you wish, Anakin... my Master would probably be more than pleased to go in your stead. She has a distaste for Hutts, slavery, and cruelty to sentient beings."

"I wish she'd taken back her Council seat, then," Anakin replied, before he could get the better of his mouth, and he took a slow breath. "Sorry. I... that... might be a good idea. I'm pretty sure I'd wind up strangling Gardulla or something. Not that she doesn't deserve it, but it'd... probably be a bad idea."

Micah appraised him for a long moment, then spoke once they were in the office with the door closed. "I can feel old anger, and the Dark is close to you, Anakin Skywalker. Let us try not to tempt those matters further? You have my support, and that brings a rather large contingent of the Order, actually. None of us will judge you over the perceptions of darkness, though Qui-Gon might initially be reluctant; he's still not over some trauma."

"Xanatos," Anakin said, absolutely certain of that, though the thought of his Finder being wary of him ached, deep in his chest. He hadn't thought of that, of that he would actually get to see Master Qui-Gon...

"Ahh the dreaded infamy lingers even to your time," Micah said sadly. "Yes. Qui-Gon made a bad choice, fulfilled a prophecy made about the matter, and is not listening to anyone on the matter."

Anakin sighed, soft and unhappy. "I don't actually know anything about him, just that some of the Masters used to say I would end up just like him, when Master Obi-Wan wasn't around. But it wasn't hard to guess what you meant."

Micah met Anakin's gaze clearly, keeping the one hand on his upper arm. "You are, I believe, choosing to amend your path and save people in the doing. I assure you, that is not something that spoiled brat was ever capable of."

Anakin leaned a little into that hand, letting this man's warm, steady words soothe that particular ancient wound. "...'spoiled brat'?" he asked, unable to imagine Master Qui-Gon putting up with _that_. He hadn't even taken dealing with the Queen all that well...

"In my opinion, yes." Micah moved to the desk then, rummaging around for a datapad. After backing it up to another, he clean formatted it and handed it over. "I could see trouble. All of us could. Except Qui, because, well... the boy was too much like his own master for him to see the flaws."

Anakin flinched for a moment, seeing Dooku on his knees, seeing the blades slice across his throat, and he took the datapad -- and then went very, very still. He lifted his head, and looked at Master Micah. "...Master? Has Galidraan happened?"

Micah's eyebrow went up. "There is some unrest in that direction, I know. Another bit of Mandalorian violence brewing," he said.

Anakin hissed a sigh, shaking his head, and he closed his eyes. "What, am I supposed to save _them_ , too?!" he asked, frustrated but quiet, then focused on the present moment again, on Micah. "Okay. Okay. Send someone _not Dooku_ , and not his padawan either, when a request for assistance comes. **His** Fall starts then, from everything anyone could ever put together in the aftermath."

"I will keep that in mind," Micah said, before he sighed. "I would prefer that man not traumatize my friend further, actually."

"I don't know that not having that catalyst will prevent it, the old -- mmm, never mind, just because I spent more than half my life with soldiers doesn't mean I have to sound like one in the Temple," Anakin said, cutting off what he'd like to say about Dooku, before his eyes narrowed at the mention of hurt to Master Qui-Gon. "He hurt my Finder? Before everything went so wrong?"

"Not so much as hurt him as made it possible for that boy to do so," Micah amended. "And, in our opinion, damaged Qui-Gon's ability to trust to a degree, even before that happened. 

"Dooku is of the mind that even the most casual Attachment is invitation to betrayal."

Anakin felt his lip curl in distaste, though it... did make sense. Only someone you loved could hurt you badly, could betray you.... that just wasn't a good reason not to trust people. "Yeah, well, his isolating himself from everyone _has_ to have been a contributing factor in his Fall, so I'm taking that with a grain of salt. Even Madame Nu would admit that, when she didn't look like she wanted to burst into tears and never stop."

"Hmm. She is one of two that Dooku will grace with his casual time, so I suppose I can see that." Micah's tone did not indicate much approval for Nu, either. "Alright, Galidraan, anyone but Master Stick in the Mud and his volatile padawan."

"Preferably someone that will listen to one _incredibly_ proud, stubborn asshole of a Mand'alor when he says his people are being set up, because they are, and the **last** thing the galaxy needs is the True Mandalorians decimated and the karking Death Watch strengthened," Anakin said, firmly.

Micah blinked. "Well then. I believe I may have to hand pick a candidate then."

"...right, _has_ the fact that they're wandering their way towards a new three-way civil war come to the Order's attention yet?" Anakin asked.

"Only three sides? Mandalorian politics are muddied at best," Micah admitted.

* * *

AND THIS IS WHERE WE LOST THE THREAD OF IT!!!!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Redemption of Anakin Skywalker (before he's born)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546033) by [Neph Moreau (NephthysMoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NephthysMoon/pseuds/Neph%20Moreau)




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